


They'd Find Us In a Week (Lay Here for Years)

by whatiwouldnotgive



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: Begging, Crying, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Dubious Consent, Kinktober, M/M, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatiwouldnotgive/pseuds/whatiwouldnotgive
Summary: “Bender—” he began,  “John.  I’m tired of this fight.  I’m tired of your god damn attitude.  I think it’s time you learn your place once and for all.”  Richard carded a none-to-gentle hand through Bender’s bangs who seemed to shrink back into himself.  Ah, Richard thought, so that’s what it takes.





	They'd Find Us In a Week (Lay Here for Years)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kinktober 2018. This was a fic I've been wanting to write for literally years and just never got around to. Or, to quote myself pitching this fic idea to my friend: "I've been horny to write this since I first watched The Breakfast Club." I figured kinktober was as good a time as any. I busted this out in a couple of hours and felt the power of the porn muse running through me. Title is from Hozier's In a Week.  
>   
> Warnings: this is extremely dubious consent. Mr. Vernon does ask Bender for consent but given the fact that Bender is a high school student, we're never given his age and is most likely underage, and the power difference inherent in a vice-principal fucking a student, the consent given is dubious as best. Please take care of yourselves, don't read if something of this nature could squick you out/trigger you. 
> 
> As always, I do not own The Breakfast Club. All characters and rights belong to respective owners.

“What’s the matter, John?  You gonna cry?” Richard leaned into Bender’s face.  He felt the gazes of the other kids staring holes into his blazer.  He grabbed Bender’s arm and forced him up, “Come on, let’s go.”

Bender wrenched his arm out of Richard’s grasp, “Hey, keep your fuckin’ hand off of me.  I expect better manners from you, Dick.” Bender handed something to Andrew and shoved a few trays off of a reference desk before moving into Richard’s office.

Richard shoved Bender into the front of his desk, “That’s the last time, Bender.  That’s the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids. Do you hear me?  I make 31,000 dollars a year, and I’ve got a home. I am not about to throw it away on some punk like you.”  Richard felt rage claw at his throat.

He continued, “Someday,  _ someday _ , when you’re outta here, and you’ve forgotten all about this place, and they’ve forgotten all about you, and you’re wrapped up in your own pathetic life, I’m gonna be there.  That’s right. And I’m gonna kick the living shit out of you man. I’m gonna knock your dick in the dirt.”

“You threatening me?” Voice quivering, arms wrapped around himself.  A sudden headrush of power made him dizzy when Bender looked at him with frightened, lost little boy eyes.  

“What’re you gonna do about it?  You think anybody’s gonna believe you?  You think anybody is gonna take your word over mine?  I’m a man of respect around here. They love me around here.  I’m a swell guy. You’re a lying sack of shit, and everyone knows it.” Richard ripped off his blazer, tossing it to the side.  He leaned in close to Bender’s face, placed arms on either side of him to cage him in. Richard watched with fascination as a flush crawled down Bender’s face while the kid adamantly refused to meet his eyes.  

“Alright, tough guy.  Let’s find out just how tough you are.  I wanna know, right now, how tough you are.  Come on, I’ll give you the first punch, let’s go.”  Richard pointed to his chin. “Come on man, right here.  Just take one shot. Please, I’m begging you, take a shot.”  His rising voice echoed and ricocheted against the seams of the room. 

“Mr. Vernon—please.  I—” Bender’s voice cracked.  He finally looked up with wide, wet eyes.  Richard felt heat sear through him; he closed his own eyes for a moment to find some semblance of control over himself.  Raising a hand, Bender fell silent. 

“That’s what I thought.”  Richard said quietly, closing the few feet between them placing a dhand on Bender’s shoulder, right where it met his neck, thumb on his pulsing jugular.  He let his fingertips trail along the edges of flannel and denim and cotton—the layers bender wore to protect himself from the world and men like Richard.  Parting the collar he met warm, sweat-damp skin. Bender trembled, body betraying the glare cemented onto his brow, gaze trained on Richard’s face.

“Bender—” he began,  “John. I’m tired of this fight.  I’m tired of your god damn attitude.  I think it’s time you learn your place once and for all.”  Richard carded a none-to-gentle hand through Bender’s bangs who seemed to shrink back into himself.   _ Ah _ , Richard thought, so  _ that’s  _ what it takes.   

With a fistfull of Bender’s shirt, Richard walked backwards to sit down at his desk chair, pulling Bender in between his legs.  “Get over my knee. Now.” Richard said, words falling heavy in the room.

Swallowing, Bender said, “Is this how you worked your way up the administration, Dick?  Fucking your students over—literally? Is this how you’re gonna get that coveted superintendency?”  

Richard cracked a hand across Bender’s face, leaving a stinging red print on the swell of Bender’s cheek.  Bender’s smart mouth fell open in stunned surprised. Trust Bender to never go down without a fight. “Get over my fucking knee, John.”  He maneuvered Bender face down across his lap; Bender allowed himself to be moved, still shocked quiet. Richard took a deep breath, attempting quell the rising tide of arousal flaring in the pit of his stomach.  

Sliding a hand down the seam of Bender’s jeans, he felt Bender tense up in anticipation.   He then cracked a hand on the seat of Bender’s pants, a swat that had Bender’s legs kicking out and yelping.  Richard placed his free hand on Bender’s lower back to hold him down. He continued to lay blows down again and again and  _ again.   _ Time seemed to speed up and slow down all at once; the only sounds in the room were Bender’s labored breathing and the sound of Richard’s hand smacking Bender’s ass.  

It could’ve been ten minutes or ten hours, he couldn’t tell.  It was only when Richard’s arm tired, that he stopped. His anger had fizzled somewhat, moving more into the agony of  arousal. His cock pressed into Bender’s quickly rising and falling abdomen. He allowed himself a few slow grinds against Bender’s ribs before moving Bender up, then down onto his knees.  The kid was loose limbed, head falling to rest on Richard’s knee. A few tears clung to Bender’s lashes; he moved to swipe at them until Richard stopped him. He looked up quizzically. 

“Leave ‘em.”  Richard said, rough and gravely.  

Smirking, Bender said, “Is that what gets you hot, Dick?  Little boys crying?” He sniffed. Richard saw the jut of the kid’s dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans and didn’t reply.

Standing, he pulled Bender to his feet, cupped his jaw, and held him for a minute.  “Bender, I’m gonna ask you this now, before this keeps going, do you want it?” 

Bender’s breath hitched.  A few tears slid down his face, pooling on Richard’s hand.  “Yes,” he said. A fluttering, butterfly wing of a word.

“Good.  Now, on your knees, kid.”  

Bender slid to his knees, watching Richard with trepidation as he slid his belt off, unfastened his trousers, and pulled his dick out.  “Let’s go.” he said, winding a hand in Bender’s hair and pulling his face in. Bender hesitated for only a minute before he wrapped his lips around the wet tip.  Bender sucked softly then pulled off. Licking the slick that had beaded up, he smeared the head against his lips. 

“Attaboy,” Richard said, “Finally found a use for your fucking smart mouth, didn’t we?”  Bender hummed, eyes closed, lashes black as bruises on his face. He sucked and kissed his way up Richard’s dick, moaning quietly, fists clenching on his thighs like he was aching to touch himself.  Then, Bender slid Richard’s cock down as far as he could go. What he couldn’t fit, he wrapped a gloved hand around. The rough scratch sent shocks up Richard’s body, legs shaking with effort to stay upright.

Richard gripped both hands around Bender’s ears, fondling his earrings, and occasionally tugging Bender forward just to feel him choke.  Bender pulled off again before taking a deep breath. Wrecked and raspy, Bender said, “I wanna— I wanna deep throat you, but I need help.”  The blush on his cheeks returned, turning his face and the tips of his ears red, red,  _ red. _

Quirking an eyebrow, Richard said “How?”  A quick beat passed. “Tell me how, kid,” he repeated.

John glared at him.  “Alright,  _ daddy— _ ” he began, before slamming his mouth shut, eyes wide.  He clamped a hand over his mouth and seemed to curl in on himself.  

Lightning exploded behind his ribcage.  Richard tipped his head back and let out a slow, heavy sigh.  “God, you’re one fucking piece of work, kid.” A beat passed between them.  Richard let out another sigh while Bender remained silent. “Alright, I guess this is how we’re gonna do this.  Tell daddy how to fuck your mouth, kiddo.” 

Humiliated tears resurfaced as he said, “Just, uh.  Pull me forward when I tap you. Like you were doing.  Only don’t pull me off.” 

Richard nodded.  Bender returned to bobbing his head along Richard’s cock, wrapping his hands around Richard’s thighs.  Richard noticed Bender’s hips rocking up, trying to get some friction and relief against his jeans. A cruel thought crossed his mind and passed his lips before he could stop himself, “Don’t come until I tell you, boy.”  

John whined, but nodded—a difficult task with Richard’s cock bulging out of his cheek.  Richard felt a tap on his hip. In return, he tugged Bender forward, stopping when he felt the kid gag.  He paused for a moment, felt another tap, then pulled Bender forward the rest of the way. They stopped there for while.  Richard felt throbbing heat coil tight in his gut as his cock pulsed against Bender’s squirming tongue. Bender’s breath huffed fast with his nose pressed against the base of Richard’s pelvis.  

“Good boy.”  Richard moaned, stroking his thumb along the tears falling down Bender’s hot cheek.  Richard braced his foot between Bender’s legs, smiled when the kid rocked down onto his dress shoes.  “How many times have you done this before?” Richard said, more to himself than Bender. Bender swallowed a sob around Richard’s dick and then slipped off.  Richard watched in fascination at the dribble of spit connecting his dick to Bender, the glossy sheen of pre-come shining on Bender’s lips. 

“Only a few times.”  Bender replied.

Richard started.  Bender pressed his face into Richard’s hip.  “My old man found out I had been goin’ with this guy and put a stop to it real fucking quick.  So, I know I’m a sack of shit, man. I fuckin’ know. What kind of freak gets his rocks off to chicks and dudes?”  

“Me,” Richard said.  Bender’s gaze shot up.  Richard looked down at him.  

“Get up and drop your jeans.”  

Bender stood, fumbling with his belt and button.  When his jeans and boxers hit the ground, Richard spun him around and pressed him face-forward against his desk.  Bender’s ass was bruised and crimson and hot to the touch. Richard reached around and began stroking up and down Bender’s dick.  The hard length fit perfectly inside his fist. Bender, overwhelmed with sensation and emotion, choked on a cry, burying his face in his arms, hips fucking forward into Richard’s hand.  

“That’s a good boy.  Fuck daddy’s hand.”

“Ah— ah—” Bender gasped.  “I ca-an’t. I need to come.”  

“No.” Richard said, suddenly pulling his hand off.  Bender turned to scowl at Richard over his shoulder.  

“I want to hear you beg, Bender.” 

“Not gonna happen old man.”  

Richard swatted at Bender’s ass again.  The boy jerked, the edge of the desk surely leaving bruises on his hip bones.  Richard reached into his top desk drawer pulling out a bottle of lotion—a gift from a faculty Christmas party.  “Mark my words, I’ll have you begging for me before we’re done here today.” 

Bender scoffed, “In your drea—  _ oh fuck _ ”

Richard snickered, slipping a slick finger inside Bender, tugging at the rim, and pressing his thumb up into his perineum.  He slid his other hand down Bender’s quivering thighs. Bender’s nails scratched against the wooden desktop, huffing little breaths and  _ ah’s _ into the quiet of the room.  

“You can give me more than that,” he said, rocking back onto Richard’s finger.  

Richard slid another finger in, twisting and rocking several times just to watch Bender squirm as he adamantly avoided pressing against the spot inside him.  “You ever have your ass fucked, kid?” 

Bender nodded yes, but not before Richard noticed him hesitating briefly.  Biting his lip, he added a third finger, stopping when he felt Bender resisting.  

“You gotta relax,” he said, squeezing more slick where they were joined, spilling some on Bender’s ass.  The drops glistening on his skin under the fluorescent lights. Richard pressed his fingertips into Bender’s spot, rubbing and stroking it.  Bender made a wounded noise like he had been punched, knees giving out.

Twisting his wrist in little circles, he continued easing Bender open, who was panting and biting his wrist bloody—most likely to avoid letting out another noise.  

Richard leaned his body on top of Bender’s slender figure and grabbed one of his hands, linking their fingers together as he fucked his fingers into Bender. Bender wrested his hand out of Richards, hissing, “Don’t get romantic with me.”  

“Don’t want daddy to hold your hand?  That’s fine.” Richard wrapped that hand around Bender’s throat—not squeezing—just resting there with a threat.  Meanwhile, he folded his pinky in and slid in up to the knuckles, spreading and fanning his fingers in and out. They laid like that for a while—a crackling feedback loop of pleasure with Richard grinding against Bender, fucking his fingers fast and rough and quick and dirty; Bender’s back arching as he rocked back and down.  Smears of his slick stained his the skin of his belly and woodgrain of the desk. 

Upon realizing Bender was attempting to gain some friction on his dick, he abruptly pulled out and yanked Bender’s hips up, forcing him onto his tip toes.  Leaning down by his ear he growled, “I’m not gonna warn you again. You come when I tell you to.” He punctuated the sentence by thrusting inside. Bender’s head fell forward with a wail.  Richard wrapped a hand around Bender’s waist, feeling the muscles of his abdomen ripple and heave with effort. The other was still gripping Bender’s throat. 

Richard felt heavy and huge inside Bender.  He leaned his head on the back of Bender’s neck, nosing the sweat damp hair there at his collar.  Rolling his hips forward, Richard squeezed Bender’s middle, enjoying the slight give of baby fat-not-yet-outgrown there.  

Bender rocked forward on the balls of his feet with every swing of Richard’s body forward into his.  Richard moved his hands to Bender’s waist which he gripped hard enough to bruise. A dark part of him hoped that tomorrow Bender would wake up to fingerprint bruises on his skin.  The thought of Bender getting himself off to the memory of this moment caused sparks to skitter along his spine. 

Using his grip on the kids waist as leverage, he pulled Bender forwards and back, dragging the kid along his cock, thrusting with as much strength and anger and frustration as he could.  All Bender could do was be pulled along for the ride. He loved watching the drag of his dick tug at the rim of Bender’s ass; he rubbed a thumb where they were joined then lower still to rub and squeeze the kid’s balls.  

“Mr. Vernon—  _ God _ .  Fuck,  _ fuck. _ ”

Richard wiped a drip of sweat from his brow.  He stopped for a moment, to Bender’s obvious displeasure when he moaned, trying to push back.  

“How do you ask for it?” Richard asked.

Bender swallowed audibly then shook his head.  

“I said,” Richard flipped Bender over onto his back, “How do you ask for it?”  

Bender threw an arm across his eyes, shaking his head again.  Richard grabbed both of Bender’s arms, pinning them above his head.  Bender was crying in earnest now; Richard stroked his face, wiping the tears away, smoothing Bender’s hair out of his face.  “Come on, kiddo. How do you ask daddy for it?” 

Through gritted teeth, he heard the glorious phrase: “Please, Mr. Vernon—daddy.  Please I need to come. Please, oh  _ please. _ ” 

And wasn’t  _ that  _ the best thing Richard had heard in years.  Fucking the bratty insolence right out of the kid.  

“There’s my good boy,” Richard cooed.  He leaned down and sucked at the base of Bender’s throat.  Reaching a hand between their stomachs, he grasped Bender’s throbbing dick.  He gave it a hard squeeze, probably too hard as he heard Bender whimper and curl inwards.  He started stroking Bender slow with a strong, heady grip. 

When the kid finally came, it was with the quietest  _ oh _ and wide, wide eyes, shocked like he had never come before.  Richard continued to jack him off, roaming around his face, drinking in every second of the kid’s orgasm from the flutter of his lashes, the jerk of his pelvis, the way Bender allowed him to lace their hands together. 

He also continued to fuck the kid through his orgasm, each thrust propelling him up and down bodily.  Richard’s toes curled in his shoes as he rocked faster and faster into Bender’s loose-limbed frame. The blindingly tight pressure of heat and pleasure in his gut unwound when he came all at once, spilling inside Bender’s body which a sharp exhale.  

Richard came to when he felt a hand rub tiny circles into his back; however, they stopped as soon as Bender realized he was of present mind.  Richard stood up, pulled out, and watched in sick, aroused fascination as his come slowly dripped out of Bender, sliding down his trembling inner thighs.  Bender propped himself up on his elbows and reached a hand down to touch himself between his legs. His nose crinkled when they came back wet with come. 

“I can’t believe you fuckin’ came inside me man.” his voice was weak and hiccupy.  Richard snorted a laugh as he tucked himself back inside his trousers. Then he grabbed a box of kleenex and offered it to Bender who reluctantly took it.  Richard stared at the kid while he wiped at his blotchy, wet face, fidgeting at the slide of come out of his body. 

The vulnerability of teenagers never ceased to amaze him.  When you broke them down to their component parts, they were all lost and in search of guidance.  Stubborn and full of life with no answers to a million questions. 

“Put yourself together, kid.  Get back out there. You’ve still got a couple more hours here,”  Richard said, glancing at the wall clock. 

Bender nodded, pulled up his jeans, and slipped out of the room.  


End file.
